


dripping

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Background Fitzbobbi, F/M, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Kitchen Sex, Lance Hunter Has No Chill, Masturbation, Pining, seriously no chill to be found anywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Lance Hunter has been crushing on his next-door neighbor for the last six months. When she comes over to ask him to use his shower, it's not like he can sayno... even if it means sending her off on a date with another man.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2020





	dripping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LibbyWeasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWeasley/gifts).



Three loud raps sounded on Hunter’s front door, and he squinted at the clock. He wasn’t expecting anyone over, and it was too late for most deliveries. He set down the knife he was using to chop vegetables for his dinner (the worst part about being an adult was forcing himself to eat vegetables, really) and padded to the front door, swinging it open cautiously.

Hunter relaxed when he saw who was on the other side. Jemma Simmons, his neighbor on the right - brunette, intelligent beyond belief, and much too small to murder him… at least with brute strength. She also had the unfortunate distinction of being Hunter’s first crush since his move to a new city, and his longest-lasting since forever. The brunette hair, the soft brown eyes, the wit that spun him in circles - it all came together to create the most intriguing woman Hunter had met in a long time. And now she was standing at his doorstep, the apples of her cheeks dusted with pink and looking entirely too kissable for someone who was entirely out of his league.

“Hunter!” she greeted, rocking back onto her heels. “Can I ask a super huge favor of you?”

He nodded cautiously. In his six months of living next to Jemma she hadn’t asked for so much as a cup of sugar, so the sudden need for a large favor was mildly concerning.

“I’ve got a date tonight and _apparently_ the mixer valve on my shower is broken, and could I possibly use your shower, maybe?” Jemma squeezed her eyes shut like his answer was going to be a blow to the face, and Hunter blinked. He was expecting a favor on the level of needing to hide a body, not borrow his shower.

“Sure, of course,” he said, stepping out of the way to let her in.

“I need to grab my things really quickly, but I’ll be right back…?” Jemma said, peeking one eye open.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” Hunter said.

They parted ways, Hunter returning to the kitchen to finish dinner and Jemma ducking back into her own apartment to get her bathing necessities. She let herself back into his apartment and he pointed her down the hall to the bathroom, a bit unnecessarily. All of the units were designed the same way, so the layout would be familiar to her.

Two minutes later the shower was running and Hunter was standing, frozen, at his kitchen counter.

Jemma Simmons was in his apartment, naked, and he didn’t get to see it. He must’ve done something horrible in a past life to deserve this sort of punishment - there was no other explanation for why this would be happening to him. Hunter’s prick ached insistently and he did his best to ignore it while sliding his dinner into the oven. It wouldn’t be his first time wanking to the thought of Jemma, but doing it while she was in his home felt like taking it a step too far. Even if it _was_ horribly distracting to have images of her dripping wet running through his head.

When she got out of the shower he was sitting at the table, halfway through his dinner.

“Who’s the lucky person, then?” Hunter asked, trying his best not to look like a perv when his eyes roamed up and down her body. She was wearing a tight black dress, appropriate for a classy restaurant, or maybe the opera. It also made her tits look fantastic, a fact Hunter hoped her date for the night wouldn’t notice.

“His name is Fitz,” Jemma said, smoothing her hands down her dress. “We work together. Sort of. We’re different departments but we have a cordial consulting relationship.” Jemma sighed. “Truth be told, I was surprised he asked me out. I always thought we were better as work partners, but…”

“Might as well give it a try?” Hunter guessed.

“I mean, it’s not like I’ve had better luck.” Jemma winced. “Sorry. You probably don’t care about all the awful dates I’ve been on.”

 _On the contrary, I care too much._ “I don’t mind,” he said instead. “Here’s to hoping this one goes well.” He lifted his glass of water in a faux toast and Jemma gave him a small smile.

“Thank you again for letting me borrow your shower. I called a plumber earlier and he said he can come out on Saturday to fix it, but I would feel awful rescheduling this and you know I always smell like chemicals when I come home from work, so…”

Hunter did not know that Jemma smelled like coming home from work, as much as he wished otherwise. He didn’t know what she smelled like at all, though he did have a good guess based on her general demeanor. Something mildly flowery with a hint of musk - like roses and soil after it rained.

Christ, he was down the rabbit hole if he was imagining what the woman _smelled_ like.

“If you need another shower before then feel free to pop over,” Hunter offered. Why had he said that? He had already tortured himself enough in the past hour. Volunteering to do it again was pure madness.

“Thank you.” She paused “I guess I’d better go finish getting ready,” Jemma said awkwardly. “I’ll see you?”

“See you,” Hunter said, giving a half-wave goodbye as she walked out the door.

His fork clattered to his plate the moment he was alone again, and Hunter groaned, putting his head on the table. He had just sent the woman of his dreams off on a date with another man with his well wishes and offered to let her come back to his apartment to use his shower - but also inevitably tell him all about how wonderful this _Fitz_ character was.

He was an idiot.

\---

Two days passed before Hunter saw Jemma again. She showed up at his doorstep with her shower caddy and looked like she was about to give him another apology when he waved her inside.

“How was the date?” he asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant and not jealous.

“Oh.” Jemma brightened and Hunter’s heart sank. “It’s quite funny, actually - Fitz didn’t mean to ask me out at all.”

“He didn’t?” Hunter asked, perplexed. Why would anyone not want to ask Jemma out? And why did she seem pleased by this turn of events?

“I work next to another woman, Bobbi. He got our desks mixed up and put his note asking her out in my desk instead. He was too embarrassed to correct his mistake when I came to talk to him about it, but he came clean at the end of the date.”

“And you’re… happy about this?” Hunter’s brow furrowed.

“Like I said, I’ve only ever thought of him as a work partner and friend. Besides, I know Bobbi’s had a crush on him for forever, but she was under the impression he was interested in someone else.”

“So did Fitz ask her out?”

“Yesterday, after I told him I wasn’t interested in anything more.”

Hunter nodded. That was a happy ending then - Fitz got to go on a date with the woman he actually liked, who apparently liked him back.

A happy ending for everyone but Jemma, Hunter amended, even if she didn’t seem too torn up about what had happened.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said.

“It’s alright.” Jemma shrugged. “Honestly, I’m glad. I’m interested in someone else and it would’ve just been… complicated.”

 _Who?_ Hunter bit his tongue to keep the question from slipping out. “If you want my opinion, any bloke would be lucky to have you. Or bird,” he added hastily. He and Jemma had briefly touched on their respective sexualities, and it would be prickish of him not to acknowledge her attraction to women when he knew full well she was bisexual. 

“Thank you.” Jemma smiled at him, but something about it seemed… odd. Or maybe he was just the one feeling odd, because encouraging her romantic escapades with other people was eating him from the inside. But that was part of being a supportive neighbor-slash-friend, even if he hated it.

“I’ll be in my bedroom watching footie if you need anything,” Hunter said, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom. He had put in a fresh set of towels the last time he’d been in there and Jemma had been fine the last time she’d used his shower, but he still preferred having the offer out in the open. 

He retreated to his bedroom and opened his laptop, but he couldn’t make himself pull up the recording of the football match from the day before. It had been an honest-to-goodness miracle he had kept himself under control the last time Jemma was in his shower, and that had mostly been because he was in his kitchen and hadn’t wanted to risk Jemma walking out of the shower and find him wanking. Now he was safely behind a closed, locked door - and he had the added bonus of knowing she wasn’t about to go on a date with someone else. 

Hunter took a deep breath in one final attempt at clearing his head, but he was far past the point of no return. His prick was straining against his trousers and his imagination was all too happy to conjure pictures of what Jemma was doing just across the hallway. 

He stripped his bottom half efficiently, sighing in relief when his fist closed around his prick. Hunter’s gaze flicked to his laptop, but it had been a long time since he’d need porn to get off. He suspected today would be no different, with how fast his mind was racing.

With one hand still on his prick Hunter fumbled through the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out his fleshlight and a bottle of lube. His hand was fine company but he was acutely aware of how different it was from the person he wanted. Jemma’s hands were smaller and softer, and Hunter imagined she was devilishly good with them since her work required her to be so exacting. He didn’t know what her hole felt like (and probably never would) so at least with the fleshlight he could believe it was her.

He uncapped the lube with one hand, and finally had to release his prick to pour a generous dollop onto the tips of his fingers.

“You like that, love?” Hunter murmured as he smeared it on the outer lips of the fleslight’s fake labia. “You nice and wet for me, Jem? Hmm?”

God, he felt like a lech fingering a fleshlight and pretending it was his neighbor, but it made him so fucking hard Hunter almost didn’t care.

“Shit,” Hunter hissed as another glob of cold lube made contact with his hot prick. Normally he was smart enough to remember to warm it in his hand first, but he wasn’t exactly thinking straight. Hunter pumped his cock a few times to spread the lube across its length, letting out a long breath through his nose. It felt good, there was no denying that, but _Jemma_ … 

Hunter settled the fleshlight on the edge of the bed, lining up his prick with the hole. If Jemma were here he would bend her over the bed just like this, make her beg for him before he even thought about putting his cock in her. But Jemma wasn’t here. She was across the hall, in his shower, water streaming down her body. There would be little rivulets cascading down her breasts, droplets dripping off her perfect, dusky nipples, one by one by one -

Hunter’s hips pushed forward and he struggled for breath as the slickness of the fleshlight surrounded his cock. Much better than his hand already and it was only one thrust.

He began rocking his hips, setting a carefully slow pace. He didn’t want this to be over too soon - he wanted to savor every minute of it, give himself as much time as possible with his fantasies. Hunter’s eyes fluttered closed and immediately Jemma filled his vision against. Her skin was slick with soap and water and she was cleaning herself. She began with her arms, long smooth strokes from shoulder to wrist and then wrist to shoulder to ensure she was covering the full length of her body. Then she moved onto her chest, cleaning her breasts carefully but not lingering the way she would if she knew he was watching her. 

“Jemma,” he grunted as his thrusts began to pick up speed. The Jemma in his mind’s eye looked up at him, then slowly ran her hand down her body until her hand was at the apex of her thighs.

Hunter’s entire body tensed. He would give anything to see the real version of Jemma touch herself - or to be the one who touched her. He would tease her so good, make her so wet for him…

Hunter’s thighs trembled and he could feel his orgasm approaching. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe as a thousand scenes of him and Jemma flashed through his head, each one naughtier than the last. Him slipping into the shower with her, her sucking his cock, him fucking her on the table while stupid Fitz watched.

He groaned. His fucking jealousy was going to be the death of him. He didn’t want to be thinking about _Fitz_ when he was so close to cumming he could taste it. There was only one person he wanted to think about.

“Jemma,” Hunter breathed, hoping saying her name out loud would focus him. It did. “Jemma.” Warm brown eyes blinking up at him through heavy lids. “Jemma.” Brunette hair tangled through his fingers as he tugged on it. “Jemma.” Plump, soft breasts in his hands as he kneaded them. “ _Jemma_.” A warm, wet cunt clenching around his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Hunter only just managed to get his mouth around his fist to muffle his shout when he came, spilling into the fleshlight in long spurts that made his knees shake.

 _Shit._ When had the shower shut off? He had been sure it was on just a minute ago, but -

“Hunter?” came Jemma’s voice from the other side of his bedroom door.

“Yeah?” he called back, praying his voice didn’t betray what he had just been doing.

“Did you need me? I thought I heard my name.”

“I don’t think so, love. I haven’t been saying anything.” Hunter bit his lip and tried not to feel horrid for his blatant lie. What was the alternative, though - _Sorry, Jemma, I was shouting your name, but just because I was using you to get off?_

“Alright. Well, I still need to change into my new clothes, so…”

Jemma’s footsteps receded and Hunter exhaled softly. He needed to clean himself up and be waiting for Jemma in the foyer when she went back to her apartment. Maybe then she wouldn’t think too hard about why she had heard him calling her name while she was in his shower.

Five minutes later Hunter was exactly where he planned to be, in the living room waiting for Jemma’s exit.

Her hair was still wet and the pajama shirt she had put on molded to her body in a way that would’ve sent him straight back to the bedroom if he wasn’t still so pleasantly boneless from his previous orgasm. Not for the first time Hunter cursed how unfairly beautiful Jemma was. It shouldn’t be legal for a woman to be able to do the things to him that she did and be totally oblivious all the while.

“I’ll probably be by again tomorrow,” Jemma said, hovering near the door. “And then hopefully the day after the plumber will be able to fix the valve and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Sounds good,” Hunter said. Even though she had only been over twice, Hunter was going to miss having Jemma in his space. Most of their talking happened in the lobby, elevator, or hallway, so it was nice to have an excuse to linger a little longer, even if it did lead to rather inappropriate thoughts.

“Well, I’ll see you, then.”

Hunter forced a smile as Jemma went out the door, trying to ignore the delicious curve of her arse in her pajama pants as she left.

He wasn’t strong enough for this.

\---

If Hunter wasn’t strong enough to watch Jemma leave his apartment, he certainly wasn’t strong enough to spend an evening in hers, but he couldn’t exactly decline her invitation. She had insisted she needed to thank him for all his help, even if the most inconvenienced Hunter had been was how damn distracted he was for the hours after she left every time. Still, he’d needed a new fantasy for his spank bank and this one was delightful. If anything, he should be thanking her - not that he could tell her that.

Jemma opened the door the moment he knocked, and if he was flattering himself Hunter would say she was waiting for him. The truth was probably more along the lines of her already being near the door for some other reason - maybe a trash can? Either way, she let him in.

Because the layouts of their apartments were identical Hunter was expecting to feel familiar with Jemma’s apartment, but that wasn’t the case. Her decor was so different from his it might as well have been a different space. She somehow managed to make the old, orange-y lightbulbs feel homey rather than passé. She had art hanging on the walls, which was another step above Hunter, and her place just looked… lived in. Which was funny, considering Hunter knew how long her hours at work were, and she probably spent less time in her apartment than he did in his.

“Dinner should be just about out of the oven,” Jemma said as she waved him inside. “I should have asked earlier, is shepherd’s pie okay?”

Hunter nodded.

“I thought you’d like it,” Jemma said, relieved. “It reminds me of home, you know?”

Hunter nodded again. “Americans don’t know how to make it right.”

“Americans don’t know how to make anything right,” Jemma sniffed. “And Bobbi keeps teasing me about using seasoning in my cooking, which is terribly unfair. I mean, I understand that we have an imperialist history that we have to contend with and it is a shame that most traditional British cuisine is underseasoned, but it’s not like _Americans_ have much room to talk when it comes to imperialism and -” Jemma took a deep breath and snapped her mouth shut almost comically quickly. “I’m sorry, I was rambling.”

“It’s alright,” Hunter said, unable to help the smile creeping onto his face. “You’re right on all counts. And I’m sure you got the seasoning right.”

“Thank you,” Jemma said, smoothing her hands down her apron. She was wearing it over a long pink dress sprinkled with black flowers, and Hunter had to fight against the image of her in just the apron. She would look lovely like that, her breasts spilling over the top, and _now really wasn’t the time to be getting another hard-on over Jemma Simmons_. 

“I should be thanking you,” Hunter said as he slid into the seat Jemma offered at the kitchen table. Hopefully it would hide any unfortunate erection that results from her close proximity. “I told you, a thank-you meal really isn’t necessary.”

“And I told _you_ , I appreciate your kindness. It’s the least I could do.”

The oven beeped, interrupting their attempts to out-polite each other, and Hunter’s eyes followed Jemma back into the kitchen. There was a vase of flowers perched on the kitchen counter, and Hunter sized them up curiously. It was a nice bouquet, with bright yellow and orange flowers of various shades and textures. He wasn’t enough of a florist to guess at the cost, but it looked like something Hunter would buy for a bird.

Maybe it was from that guy Jemma fancied.

“Here we are!” Jemma set the shepherd’s pie on a potholder on the table. “I imagine we still need to wait a few minutes so we don’t burn our mouths. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Just water, please.”

Jemma returned with her apron untied and two glasses of ice water in her hand. She set one in front of Hunter and he took it gratefully, hoping the dirk might help him cool down. 

“Do you enjoy cooking?” he asked, twirling his fork between his fingers while he waited.

“It’s a way to pass the time,” Jemma said with a shrug. “And of course good nutrition is important to a healthy lifestyle.”

Hunter nodded sagely. “Good nutrition, good sleep, and…” He paused, trying to remember what was last on the list.

“Good sex?”

“I think it was water, actually,” Hunter said, hoping his blush didn’t betray him. Jemma was already turning pink, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he blushed, too? 

“Right,” she coughed.

“What, the bloke who bought you flowers didn’t take you on a date?” Hunter asked, gesturing to the vase on the counter.

“Oh, no,” Jemma said, turning over her shoulder to look at the flowers in question. “Those were from Fitz. An apology for the misunderstanding about him not actually meaning to ask me out.”

“Ah. I thought maybe they were from the person you mentioned liking the other night,” Hunter said.

“Oh - oh, no.” Jemma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You would know if the man I liked made a move, I’m certain.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “Why’s that?”

Jemma’s blush was back with a vengeance and Hunter’s insides began twisting in all manner of ways. Was Jemma planning on having sex so loud he would be able to hear it from his apartment? And if that was the case why did she seem so _awkward_ about it, like she had said something she wasn’t meant to?

“Um.” Jemma stared at her dinner plate like she was trying to drill a hole through it with her eyes. “Well, you see… he’s you?”

Hunter’s brain felt like a skipping record. _He’s you - he’s - he’s - he’s_. Jemma couldn’t have possibly meant that, could she?

“Me?” he said, dumbfounded.

“Yes.” Jemma said. “I know, it’s silly, and I promise it’s just a crush, I never meant to tell you, you see, because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but -”

“I like you too,” Hunter interrupted. “A lot.”

“But…” Jemma trailed off. “You didn’t say anything!”

“Neither did you!” Hunter defended. “And I didn’t come to your apartment asking you to shower for a date with someone else!”

“We’ve been neighbors for six months!” Jemma retorted. “You had six months to make your move and it would’ve saved me the awkwardness of having to go on that date with someone I’m not at all attracted to!”

“You could’ve said no regardless,” Hunter grumbled.

“I knew Fitz wasn’t going to kill me, which is more than I can say of some of my Tinder dates,” Jemma muttered.

“You’d rather get murdered than ask me on a date!?”

“I’d rather get murdered than have you turn me down for a date!” Jemma squeaked.

“Christ, Jemma, who the bloody hell would turn you down!? You’re like every man’s perfect woman! You’re smart and polite and funny and I’d spend the rest of my life drooling over your tits if I didn’t have bills to pay!” Hunter’s pants grew uncomfortably tight again when he mentioned Jemma’s breasts and he swallowed hard. 

“Would you like to?” Jemma asked.

“What?” 

“I mean.” she shuffled nervously in her seat. “We know we’re platonically compatible. I quite enjoy all of the conversations we’ve had together, we have similar hobbies, we value similar things… it seems like the only thing that would be between us in a romantic relationship is sexual compatibility, since we’ve both established we like each other.”

“Just so we’re clear, you’re asking me if I’d like to shag you?”

Jemma bit her lip, then nodded.

“Only every day for the past week,” Hunter said. His hands were already itching for Jemma’s skin but she hadn't moved from her seat yet. And he wanted her to ultimately have the last say on where tonight went.

“Only a week?” Jemma asked, rising from her chair.

“Longer than that,” Hunter admitted as she sauntered over. “But you were naked in my bathroom and…”

Jemma pulled Hunter’s chair back from the table so she could throw a leg over his hips. Her dress tangled momentarily and she shifted slightly to keep it from catching, putting the most exquisite pressure on Hunter’s prick. Her chest was right in his face but her dress was high-necked, keeping him from seeing any of the beautiful cleavage he loved.

“And you needed to use all your self-control on not breaking down the door to come fuck me?” she suggested, voice sliding into a lower register as she rocked her hips into his.

“Something like that,” Hunter said hoarsely, taking her hips in his hands in an attempt to help guide the rhythm. 

“What if you had?” Jemma asked, hooking her arms around the back of his neck and using that ad leverage to find on him. “What then?”

“I…” Hunter licked his lips. “It depends on what you were doing.”

“Washing my hair,” Jemma responded promptly. “My hands over my head so you could see my breasts perfectly. My nipples get very pink in the shower, did you know that? The heat makes them nice and soft, too, and -”

“I’d suck on them,” Hunter interrupted. He pressed his nose into Jemma’s decolletage, inhaling the scent of her laundry detergent and fabric softener. The next date they went on he wanted her in that little black dress, where putting his face in the same place would get him the smell of her skin. 

“And when I was done sucking on them I’d kiss a line down your stomach, then down further.” Jemma’s hands wound through her hair, tugging slightly, and Hunter groaned. “I’d use my tongue to play with your clit until you were shaking, and then…” He inhaled shakily. “Which would you prefer, Jemma - cumming on my tongue, or my fingers, or my cock?”

“Cock,” Jemma whimpered, rolling her hips. “I want it in me.”

“You can have it,” Hunter said, leaning back in his seat. “We need to…” He trailed off. Jemma had ducked her head down just so and suddenly all he could see were her lips, perfectly pink and tempting and _why_ was she giving him a lap dance and not kissing him? Whatever he had been about to say wasn’t nearly as important as getting his mouth on hers.

Jemma seemed to agree, because the next moment she was leaning down to kiss him. Her mouth tasted even better than it looked, like mint and chocolate and sugar. Had she made a dessert for the night? That was the only way Hunter could imagine a taste like that lingering on her mouth. He didn’t particularly care about the reason, though, because Jemma’s tongue was just as clever with kissing as it was with speaking and he was lost in the delicate dance she was leading him in. His cock gave an insistent twitch when she nibbled on his lip but Hunter ignored it. The journey was better than the destination, at least this time around.

“We should…?” Jemma asked when they broke away, chests heaving.

“Um. Put the pie in the fridge, so we can -”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jemma said.

Hunter helped her off his lap, the long hem of her dress once again getting in the way of things. When Jemma turned around to reach for the dish the shepherd’s pie was in, Hunter couldn’t resist stepping closer to her, pressing his erection against her arse. Jemma gasped, bracing her palms against the table so she could press back into him.

“Thirty seconds,” she said. “It’ll just take me thirty seconds to put dinner away and we can have our fun.”

Thirty seconds was far too long, but Hunter stepped back nonetheless. He trailed after Jemma into the kitchen, and the moment the pie was in the fridge and the door was shut he was in her space again, his baser urges driving him close to her.

“Are you normally this insistent?” Jemma asked as he began skimming his hands down her sides, turning her around and backing her up until she was pressed against the counter.

“Depends,” he whispered, nibbling on her ear. “Do you like it?”

“My panties are soaked,” Jemma answered, arching into his touch. “Though that was the case before you walked through the door. I was going to change, but these match my bra so nicely and…”

“It won’t matter if they match when I take them off.” Hunter scraped his teeth down the cord of muscle in Jemma’s neck, savoring the taste of her and how she shivered under his touch.

“Be my guest,” Jemma breathed. Hunter pushed her dress up around her hips, growling under his breath when there was still fabric hanging over the apex of her thighs. Jemma gathered the rest of it up helpfully, leaving Hunter to kneel in front of her. 

He pressed his nose to the crotch of her underwear and Jemma’s breathing hitched. 

“Hunter,” she said, voice trembling.

“I’m just going to take them off,” he promised, turning his face just enough to nip at the soft skin at the inside of her thighs. “You’re afraid of cumming on my mouth, aren’t you, love?”

“Yes,” Jemma whimpered. “I told you, I’m wet, and… oh, would you please…?”

Hunter had caught the lace hem of her underwear in her mouth and begun to drag it down her hip, but he paused at her half-formed question, waiting for further instruction.

“Take them off,” Jemma gulped. “Please.”

That was what he was planning to do anyways, and Hunter peeled the panties off Jemma’s skin with gentle tugs. Wet didn’t even begin to cover it - even soaking seemed an understatement. Jemma was practically dripping with her arousal, the smell musky and sweet and enough for him to get drunk on.

Even though he had promised (or at least implied) that he wouldn’t tease her with his tongue, Hunter couldn’t help but lick a stripe up Jemma’s inner thigh when he had her panties down. The taste was rich on his tongue, not quite what he expected based on the aroma yet somehow better.

“Lance.” Either Jemma had talked to someone he had slept with before or she was an extremely good guesser, because she knew just how to get his attention. He arched his neck back so he could look her in the eyes, and Jemma didn’t need to finish crooking her finger to beckon him upwards.

“That looks uncomfortable,” Jemma said, popping the button on his pants with an expert movement. She tugged his fly down and Hunter exhaled gustily. It _was_ much more comfortable to have his cock free, even more so when Jemma was already maneuvering him out of his boxers as well.

“Clean?” Hunter asked as Jemma began lining them up.

“And on birth control,” she confirmed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about condoms, but -”

“I trust you,” Hunter said. It wasn’t like this was some one night stand. It was Jemma, and he would hopefully be seeing a lot more of her after tonight.

“Good, because otherwise this would end very disappointingly for both of us.”

“Jemma, can I put my cock in you now?” She had them lined up perfectly, so close Hunter could practically feel the heat radiating from her cunt, and it was taking all of self-control not to thrust into her.

“ _Please_.”

The first thrust was the most exquisite form of torture, her pussy hot and impossibly tight around him. He was going slowly to allow her the time to adjust, but Christ, it was difficult. Jemma’s hands had settled on his shoulders and her fingers curled into him, her nails digging into his skin even through his shirt.

“Okay?” he grunted as he bottomed out.

“Perfect,” she sighed back. 

“Can I -?” Hunter placed his hands on Jemma’s arse and lifted her onto the countertop. The position put her hips more level with his and allowed him to push further into her.

“Yes, this is - this is good.” She licked her lips. “I - I’m sorry, I’m normally much more articulate than this but you’re really very - can you _move_ , please?”

Hunter didn’t bother hiding his grin as he began pumping his hips. Jemma’s grip on his shoulders grew tighter and she canted her hips towards him with each thrust, tiny pleasurable noises falling off her lips with each movement.

It wasn’t exactly how Hunter imagined fucking Jemma for the first time would go - there were far too many clothes, for instance - but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It wasn’t every day he got to shag the subject of his every wet dream for the last six months, and a part of him was terrified she was going to come to her senses any minute and yell at him to get out of her apartment.

“Just like that, Hunter!” was what she yelled instead, nearly flying off the counter when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“You like that?” Hunter asked, snapping his hips in time with Jemma’s moans of pleasure.

“Yes, please, yes, oh _God_ , yes, ah, ah, _ahhh -_ ” She hung onto the last syllable before crashing into an orgasm that sent her inner walls spasming. It coaxed Hunter higher, higher, but left him just short of falling over the edge. Jemma’s hands had gone lax but undoubtedly seh could feel how close he was.

“You can do it,” she panted encouragingly. “Come on, finish for me, Lance.”

His name was all he needed to spill into her, and somewhere in the back of his head Hunter was aware of how entirely better than a fleshlight this was.

He and Jemma were both left sweaty and panting on the counter, her underwear on the floor the only clothing they had managed to discard. As Jemma’s chest continued to heave Hunter was once again jealous of his future self, who would get to see her shirtless. He was a lucky man.

“Have you worked up an appetite?” Jemma asked, sliding to the edge of the counter and wrapping her legs around Hunter’s waist. He picked her up from the counter and allowed her to step back down onto the tile of the kitchen, steadying her with a careful hand when she swayed.

“I was thinking more that we’ve worked up a sweat.” Hunter ran his hand through Jemma’s hair, tugging gently on the strands that had been plastered to the back of her neck with sweat. It should have disgusted him, probably, but instead he was more proud that he had been the one to do that to her. 

“Maybe we need a shower,” Jemma suggested. “You are rather messy.”

And he was - his cock was smeared with her juices and his cum, and under her rumpled dress her thighs were no better.

“Is your valve fixed?” Hunter asked, hoping it didn’t sound like an innuendo.

“It is.” Jemma turned to him, biting her lip. “But I still think we should go back to your palace.”

“Why’s that?” Hunter wasn’t sure they could even make it down the hallway twenty feet, and he’d rather not put his cock back in his pants if he didn’t have to.

“You have much better water pressure.” Jemma rocked forward onto her tiptoes so she could press her lips against his ear. “And that detachable shower head is… lovely.”

Warmth trickled down Hunter’s spine at the implications of what she said set in. “You didn’t.”

“And if I did?”

Hunter turned to capture her mouth in a punishing kiss. The flames of before had died down, leaving all of the heat but none of the danger. He could get used to kissing like this, feeling like he was dancing on hot coals. 

“If you did,” he whispered when he pulled away, leaving Jemma to chase after his mouth with a whine, “I’m going to show you how much fucking better I am.”

No way was a shower head going to beat him at giving Jemma Simmons the best orgasm of her life, and he had all night (and then some) to prove it.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the wonderful @LibbyWeasley as a part of Marvel Trumps Hate! I was so lucky to get to write a fic about one of my favorite pairings for one of my favorite people as a part of such a great cause. Thanks Libby, I love you! :)


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